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cue meccas. Third, Kansas-City has burnt ends, those slightly crispy chunks from the pointed end of a brisket. Arthur Bryant started out giving them away; today they're a best-seller and a Kansas City-only treat.
Inventing the burnt end is only part of why everyone knows Arthur Bryant. A lot of the Bryant mystique, and that of Gates' as well, comes from their longevity. Both restaurants have been operating since the 1940s. Another reason is Calvin Trillin, a Kansas City-born journalist who wrote an article for the New Yorker in 1974 claiming that Bryant's was the best restaurant in the world. Jerry Wolfskill, of GAS, says both restaurants became famous locally because of their proximity to the old downtown baseball park. If those weren't enough reasons for fame, Worgul says Bryant's can trace its history back to Henry Perry. Charlie Bryant, Arthur's brother, managed one of Perry's restaurants and branched off into his own business after Perry's death.
Quick's Bar-B-Q, 1007 Merriam Lane, is another example of a restaurant that splintered off from an older one. Ed McLain, manager, says his father, Earl Quick, started off working for Rosedale Barbecue, 600 Southwest Blvd., which Worgul says is probably Kansas City's third oldest surviving joint, after Gates' and Bryant's. After 15 years as a manager at Rosedale, Earl opened up his own place down the street where he modified the recipes he'd learned to suit his own tastes.
That was in 1964. Today, Quick's sits in a low, cement block building decorated with a mural of a beaming cartoon chef. Inside, plastic orange booths fill a wood-paneled room lined with hunting trophies, trinkets and framed clippings from food and travel magazines whose names sound out of sync with Quick's homely comfort. "Mainly people hear about us by word of mouth and through magazines like Saveur," McLain says. "We were in another story in Attaché, that's one of those magazines they have on airplanes."
McLain estimates that he cooks about 500 pounds of ribs and beef every day. His smoking oven is stained black from 40 years of burning hickory. But the old machinery is capable of turning raw pig and cow flesh into something wonderful. Quick's ribs have a sweet, smoky black crust covering tender meat that falls from the bones. Smoked beef is piled thick on
classic white bread. And the ham, oh the ham. Pink with a reddish sheen of sauce, it's tangy and smooth like edible velour. The sides are just as good. The fries are coated with a little batter before they're fried and come out golden, thick and crispy. The beans are cooked over the same hickory fire as the ribs. Each bite reveals a spicy, dark smoke flavor that sets them apart from your average camp-out staple.
The traditional barbecue man shuns restaurants that cook with gas. They sacrifice flavor for ease, and that's the biggest sin a joint can make.
Unsatisfied with the status quo, McLain is constantly scoping out other barbecue joints to get ideas and to test their food against his own. He's been to dozens of places in Kansas City and other barbecue cities, such as Memphis. He hears about most of the places he visits by word of mouth, but he says there's one sure-fire way to know by sight whether you're getting good barbecue: check out the pile of wood. Make that a huge pile of wood. "If you see people with a small pile stacked out front, they probably aren't really using it. They probably cook with gas," he says. "It's a good sign if they have a big pile out back."
Bad barbecue is easy to pick out by sight in some cases. The members of GAS BBQ once came across a joint with a sign in the window that read, "Sorry folks, we're out of spaghetti today." That restaurant only earned a 3.2 out of 10 points, the lowest score they've ever given. However, GAS members aren't as sure that it's possible to pick out good barbecue by looking at the building alone.
"Some places that are a total dive have wonderful food," Mary Jean Billingsly says. Dick Stine agrees with her. "Case in point, Laura's," he says. "I'm sure plenty of people would go by Laura's and not go in just because of the way it looks."
Stine is referring to Laura's and Emmie's Bar-B-Q N' Stuff, 7445 Prospect Ave., and he's right about the appearance. The restaurant is in an old
gas station surrounded by vacant lots. Laura's has bars on the windows. It has large dogs guarding the smoker out back. It has exposed wires leading to a precariously balanced window unit air conditioner. But Laura's also has the damned near best barbecue in Kansas City.
In the eight years it's been open, Laura's has served former mayor Emmanuel Cleaver, Miss Black USA and the band The OJs. It's been featured in a segment GAS BBQ did for the Food Network and it now holds GAS' highest rating, a 9.5. John Crawford, who owns Laura's with his wife, Rose, loves the attention. "When somebody gives you a compliment it's like they're giving you a $50 bill," he says. "That's our inspiration. That's what we do this for."
The Crawfords also seem to take inspiration from their families. Laura and Emmy are John and Rose's mothers and most of the recipes they use have been handed down to them, some through several generations. John started cooking barbecue by his grandmother's side when he was six years old. "I was dragging a crate around behind me so I could be tall enough to reach the stove and stir the sauce for my grandmother," he says. Another recipe the Crawfords use might go back even further. New customers at Laura's and Emmy's are treated to a teacake. These thick, fist-sized desserts are the color of a perfectly browned biscuit, spotted with dark freckles of nutmeg. They have a texture
somewhere between a cake and a scone and are supremely delicious. Rose Crawford got the recipe from her grandmother so she always knew it was old. It wasn't until the restaurant opened that she realized just how old it was. "I met this African man who used to come in here and I gave him one and he said, 'ahh, I used to make these in Africa,'" she says. "He was 105 years old when he died, so this is a very old recipe."
Seven different kinds of homemade sauces compliment Laura's eclectic menu. Diners can top a savory, spice-encrusted wing of perfectly smoked chicken with the honey and spice sauce or dip bites of crispy, smoky, deep-fried pork chop in the bell pepper or extra spicy flavors. One of the best parts about Laura's is the variety. "They aren't locked into absolute things that barbecue has to be," says GAS' Dick Stine. You can find everything from deep-fried turkeys to ham-flecked collard greens to Rose Crawford's 10-inch round, three-layer deep cakes on the menu. And better yet, it all tastes amazing.
I guessed food this good had to have won awards, but when I asked John Crawford about barbecue competitions, he said the only time they ever competed was at his hometown Labor Day festival. Barbecue judges who have eaten at Laura's have tried to convince the Crawfords to enter their sauces, but John Crawford insists that he just doesn't have the time. "I've wanted to enter the
clockwise from left: Ed McLain, owner of Quick's BBQ in Kansas City, carries on the the legacy his father Earl Quick began in 1964. "If you want to know if a barbeque place is good or not, just look outside," said McLain. "If you don't see a big stack of hickory wood, don't waste your time." A patron indulges in one of Laura's and Emmie's famous burnt ends. The eight-year-old establishment holds GAS's highest rating with a 9.5. Laura and Emmie's sample platter includes a little of everything, from collard greens to baked beans to potato salad and, of course, ribs, pork sandwiches, and fried chicken.